


i’m your sun that will shine through the rain

by softtofustew



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, OT5, they all love jae uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 11:53:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16575953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softtofustew/pseuds/softtofustew
Summary: being a superstar isn’t all that glamorous as all say it seems to be - jae knows that well enough to pull through all-nighters and burn the midnight oil far too many times to count.alternatively, his bandmates try to cheer him up. keyword: try.





	i’m your sun that will shine through the rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kris_the_writer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kris_the_writer/gifts).



> this one’s real short and sweet. i hope you enjoy it anyhow!

“sungjin-ssi,” wonpil tugs on the sleeve of the older’s sweater, gaining his attention. yawning, sungjin turns to face wonpil, hair dishevelled, coffee cup in his hand. it’s  _ way _ too early for anything, honestly, but with their upcoming comeback and countless practices for the concert commencing only a few months shy, 7am already seems like a time too late to laze in bed anymore. (then again, dowoon is still taking his sweet time in the shower, and brian’s probably still out cold on the couch. as expected.)

“pirrie, what is it this time?” sungjin asks, his voice cracking a little at the edges. he hopes he didn’t overstrain with the recording yesterday, so he clears his throat. “did you forget to do the laundry again or-”

“-it’s jaehyung.”

 

**_______________**

 

being a superstar isn’t all that glamorous as all say it seems to be - jae knows that well enough to pull through all-nighters and burn the midnight oil far too many times to count. he knew what he was signing up for when he debuted with the others three years back. yet, sometimes even the immovable waves of support from the fans and words of motivation from the others did little to lift jae’s mood nowadays.

when sungjin and wonpil peek into jae’s room, sungjin has to refrain himself from letting his jaw drop to the floor. shirts are discarded across the carpeted floor, bed unmade, pillow across the room. at the study desk lays jae, head in his arms, in a deep drowsy sleep.

all around the eldest, strewn all over the table, are crumpled balls of paper. one after another after another, endless.

wonpil’s frown turns deeper. “i think jaehyung-ssi is sick,” he proclaims firmly. “i touched his forehead just now. it was pretty hot.” 

worry etches itself all over sungjin’s expression. “ _ sick _ ? at this time?”

“yah,” wonpil cuts in, frustration evident in his tone. “don’t be like that. he’s obviously been overworking himself. you know he’s been trying to perfect the lyrics for his rap for the past few days already. he hates it with every fibre in him, no matter how many times we say it’s okay,” wonpil adds, before swivelling around to look at jae again. concern lines the corners of his eyes.

sungjin swallows. truth be told, everyone was a bit more worn out than usual nowadays, but even brian the songwriter was more than satisfied with the lyrics already, dowoon pretty happy with his drumming, wonpil’s voice clear and smooth in the recordings, sungjin content with their progress. 

jae was a different story. after sending in his lyrics for one of their songs and having them rejected a week ago, he’d conformed into a workaholic - trying desperately to match the lyrics to the sophisticated rhythm of their song. hadn’t worked, tried again, and again, and again.

“well, maybe we should let him keep sleeping?” sungjin suggests. 

just as the words leave his lips, footsteps pad into the hallway from behind them. “what’s going on?” dowoon’s voice is loud, deep from sleep, and the two at the doorway of jae’s room turn around on their heels to shush him.

sheepishly, dowoon lowers his voice dramatically. “what’s going on?” he hisses, all the while towelling his hair, damp from his shower.

“jae’s tired,” sungjin simply states. 

wonpil nudges him in the ribs. “he’s sick, i think. or at least, sick of the  _ songs _ .”

the younger’s lips turn downwards. “hyung has been super down lately. he’s not satisfied with anything he does, really. i think he thinks it’s going to be one of our hugest comebacks.”

“he’s right.” the voice is clear as crystal, despite brian having just woken up as he shuffles to join the small group outside the doorway. brian’s coated with morning breath, his grey sweatpants wrinkled from laying across the old couch, yet he crosses his arms across his chest purposefully, wide awake. “i think it will be, too. especially with all the promoting we’ll be doing.”

pressing a hand to his forehead, sungjin sighs deeply. “what’re we supposed to do? obviously jae won’t feel any better about himself if his lyrics get rejected again. and we need to finalise the song soon, or else it won’t be in the album,” he points out, dejected. (at 7:25 AM, too, in fact. waaaay too early to feel depressed already.)

dowoon lifts his shoulder in a shrug. “what about we give him a day? let him rest. maybe we can, like, have a small appreciation party for hyung. we never really encouraged him much these past few weeks. maybe all he needs is some comfort, some food, some sleep.”

a clap on the back earns dowoon a blush rushing to his cheeks. “that’s actually a good idea,” brian butts in, grinning from ear to ear. “besides, we  _ all _ need a break. jae needs it the most, too.”

wonpil simply nods his head in agreement, and sungjin? sungjin rubs his temples, being the obvious pessimist. “it’s a good idea, but a party? who’s going to-”

“-organise it in one day?” brian chuckles. “you’re in charge of making sure jae doesn’t even glance at the lyrics or listen to a  _ note _ of our recordings. the rest of us will take care of everything else. it gonna be  _ irie _ , my man.” 

with that said, brian pats sungjin’s shoulder, before practically dragging wonpil and dowoon to the kitchen to prepare a little something for their oldest bandmate, the one who deserved the most out of all of them, for the time being.

 

**______________**

 

when jae awakes a little past an hour later, he’s greeted by sungjin’s face, a smile forced across his face like a plaster. puzzled, he runs a hand through his greasy hair (he hadn’t had the time to shower yesterday; he probably reeks of paper and sweat now. god.) and gives sungjin a weird look. “w-what are you doing here?” he asks, morning voice gravelly.

sungjin clears his own throat before responding, “um, good morning?”

“good morning,” jae replies all the same, but scrambles to his feet in confusion. “i mean, what time is it?”

both of them glimpse at the bedside clock on jae’s desk. 09:45. “fuck,” jae curses involuntarily under his breath. as if shocked by lightning, he hurriedly gathers the papers on his desk, flinging some into the dustbin under the desk, shoving his notebook into the duffel bag slung over his desk chair. “i’m so,  _ so _ sorry - i set my alarm, i think i overslept, i’ll be over right away-”

“-jae,” sungjin breaths, placing a hand on the older’s shoulder. surprised at the lack of firmness from the younger, jae swivels around, his mouth agape in an ‘o’ shape. “i cancelled today’s recording session. you need to rest.”

“but this,” jae shakes the notebook in his hand, the papers tattered, the binding falling out, “is due this week. i’m good! i’m well-rested, i’m absolutely fantastic, i’m-”

“-i asked you to rest, and you’re going to rest.” both hand on the other’s shoulders, sungjin steers jae over to the unmade bed, before letting jae sit on the edge. he follows suit, sighing deeply. “you’re only going to strain your voice today. so sleep.”

a look of bewilderment crosses jae’s face, and a glint of something else. (relief? anxiety? or plain exhaustion?) finally, after a long, silent moment, jae casts his gaze downwards. “fine,” jae mutters under his breath, and sungjin smiles, stroking the older’s hair.

“go sleep. i’ll wake you later,” sungjin murmurs, before helping to pull jae’s (disgustingly reeky) socks off of his feet and tucking him in, pulling the covers up to the other’s chin. despite how old jae is, he still sighs, snuggling into his bed like a child, the softness of the mattress running through his aching muscles.

before sungjin leaves the door, he hears a gentle, “thank you, sungjin-ssi” from behind him. unconsciously, a small smile spreads across sungjin’s face as he shuts the door close.

 

**_______________**

 

“i think this is overdoing it-”

“-no, no, keep it on. hey!  _ yah _ ! don’t take it off!-”

“-it’s not my birthday, sungie,” jae whines, pouting as he removes his hands from the blindfold wrapped and knotted, covering his sight. he sticks his long arms out, in an imitation of a zombie. “what’s this for, anyways? are y’all going to, i don’t know, push me off of the building? if so, could you perhaps put a mattress on the ground floor or something?” 

sungjin grins affectionately, patting jae’s shoulder reassuringly. “no, we aren’t going to kill you.” walking to the kitchen has never been such a pain in the ass, especially with an eyeless jae stumbling past their furniture. (they barely made it out of the bedroom. thanks a  _ lot _ for the idea, brian.)

as the emerge in the kitchen, sungjin watches wonpil and dowoon giggling behind their fists as they stand at the kitchen counter. brian’s back is to them as he balances himself on a ladder and tapes up the last of the streamers hanging over the stove. (“it’s not his birthday,” sungjin had protested earlier. “but i like streamers, so we’re buying them,” brian had annoyingly bit back, fox-like grin across his smug face.)

“okayyyy,” jae drags out. “we’re in the kitchen, right?”

“how’d you know?’ sungjin chuckles.

jae clicks his tongue. “one, i’ve lived here for three years, and two - it smells like something’s burning.”

“what is-”

a shriek erupts from wonpil, and they all turn their heads to the stove near brian. one end of the streamer has fallen off, and is now burning along with the heat of the flame boiling the seaweed soup (courtesy of wonpil and his mum’s cooking skills over the phone). in an instance, chaos erupts: brian falls off of the ladder, dowoon tries to remove the burning streamer away from the fire (only to scald his hand and yowl in pain), wonpil bursts into tears, leaving park sungjin to rub his temples, sigh, and make a mad dash for the fire extinguisher by the door.

as the catastrophe rages on, jae stands, dumbfounded, in the middle of the kitchen. “wait, what’s going on, guys?”   
  


**_______________**

 

“firstly,” sungjin begins hesitantly. “um. we need to get a new stove.”

after the damned fiasco, the five sit around the table in the living room, brian’s elbows plastered, wonpil’s tears shed, dowoon’s hand cooled with the ointment in the cupboard, fire extinguished, jae’s glasses back on the tip of his nose. sungjin still hasn’t stopped sweating since he turned the nozzle of the extinguisher (he almost aimed it at himself.)

“no shit,” brian grumbles. out of the four, he’s the most frustrated - he’d planned everything as so, from the cake (which is currently sitting on the coffee table, its smiley face more irritating than comforting to him now), to the streamers, to the food to buy and whatnot. “worse is, we have to pay it right out of our wallets. i  _ knew _ wonpil would’ve put the fire too huge.”

a whine is heard from the boy pressed up against dowoon. “i’m sorry.”

“look,” sungjin cuts in. he breathes heavily. “that’s beside the point. as long as we didn’t burn the roof down with us and we didn’t get burnt to death, everything’s alright.” 

“optimistic of you, hyung!” wonpil claps his hands together, but retreats back to where he lies with dowoon at the sight of brian’s glare on him. opposite them, seated on the carpeted floor, jae chuckles to himself despite the situation. 

“thanks, guys,” jae starts. everyone’s attention turns to him as he clears his throat, before continuing, “i’ve just been more exhausted than usual. really. i don’t deserve you guys. y’all are literally the sun shining through my rainy days.” he rubs his neck as he smiles to himself. “i’ll rest more now, and i’ll sleep through the days after our comeback promotions, yeah?”

a loud honk is heard from the sofa, and the four of them turn heads to see wonpil blow his nose into a tissue.

upon realising all eyes on him, wonpil glimpses up, stunned momentarily. “s-sorry. that was too sweet.” at his response, everyone bursts into laughter, and jae sits back, watching, grinning to himself. the clouds have cleared, making way for light to filter through, and he’s eternally grateful for that; for  _ them _ .

  
  



End file.
